And Who Is He To Say That I Am The Villain?
by FinalFantasyHearts-Rinsaito
Summary: Series One. What if: Sylar found a way to kill the group of Heroes? Hiro found away to save the dead? Claire was the one who led them all into a trap? Maybe, saving the cheerleader isn't a great idea. Most importantly, what if Hiro didn't have Ando?
1. Part One: Clear Across America

And Who Is He To Say That I Am The Villain?

Part-one: Clear Across America

Claire Bennett: Odessa, Texas.

Thursday 12th.

So, I've decided. My real mother told me my Dad wouldn't want to see me, and when he came to see her, he agreed! That I hate. At least Dad- even if he lied to me, and had that guy take away Zach and my brother's memories- he actually cares. So what, if he told me that some other people were my real parents? It doesn't matter.

Still, I want to meet my Dad. I mean, I'm his daughter, could he really hate me that much? I'm lucky for what I have, I guess, but now that I know that my real Mom's a pyrotechnic, I wonder if my Dad can do anything like me…

I have to find him.

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Because of what I'd decided the day before, I went to see Zach as soon as I got to school. He was at his locker listening to music-what was unusual about that? I slammed the locker and he looked up with a smile, taking his headphones off.

"Hey," he greeted me quietly

"Hey,"

"Any reason for slamming my locker so loudly?" he asked

"Well, I could hardly slam it quietly now, could I?" he laughed.

"I suppose," I was glad he agreed. "You're here early, Claire. Did you come just to see me? Oh, I'm touched. What a sweet little crush you have!" he teased easily, mimicking my voice badly.

"Dream on," I told him, punching him in the stomach. He chuckled and nodded. "No, what I came to talk to you about was my dad."

"Which Dad?" he asked "The freaky, 'I'm a psycho and I'm going to protect my daughter at all costs, even if it means taking away her best friends memories' adoptive father? Or The one who you 'chucked a rock at his car' paternal father?" he asked.

"The rock and car one"

"Ah, I'm following. Do continue"

"This isn't a joke, Zach." He nodded, making his face serious.

"Yes, of course. Sorry." I laughed, he really could kill anything serious.

"I'm going to find him."

"Find him?" he asked "As in, go clear across the country to find a guy you chucked a rock at? Who just happens to be your Dad?"

"I knew he was my Dad when I chucked the rock" I sighed

"Such love in your family…" he shook his head "You don't even know where he lives, who he is, or anything! Anyway, are you going to apologise for the rock? Turn yourself into the police dude?" I rolled my eyes.

"I know I don't have anything to go on really, but I have to try. I know what he looks like, that's a start."

"How are you going to get there, Claire? Have you thought about that? When we went to see your mom I drove you." I smiled at him hopefully "You want me to drive you, don't you?" he asked flatly.

"Pleaseeeeeeeee, Zach?" I begged, grabbing his arm. He patted my shoulder sadly, and nodded.

"Go on then. I will"

"Zach! You're the best!" I wrapped my arms around him enthusiastically, and he hugged me back.

"Maybe I could get used to this," he chuckled. "Come on, trouble," he sighed as the bell rang. "Off to a day of slave labour." I nodded as we walked down the corridor, and away from the lockers to home room.

"Friday we'll be free." I told him,

"Yes. Now I'm looking forward to Friday. Bring it on!"

**

Peter Petrelli, New York City, New York.

Friday, 13th.

Simone and Isaac. I keep wondering about them. I know they were together for a long time before I even came on the scene, and I know Simone broke up with him and chose me. The thing is, I also know that the only reason she left him was because of the drugs. Now that Isaac's clean…well, maybe I'm not good enough. Oh, this so stupid. I'm most likely going to destroy New York and I'm worried about whether or not Simone and Isaac are shaking up? I really need to sort out my priorities.

At least I getting better at controlling my powers. A little. I still can't believe he PUSHED me off a building! I mean, it's lucky I have met Claire really. If it wasn't for that I'd surely be dead. Surely. Hardly, I would be dead. No two ways about it. Claire…poor girl. Save the cheerleader save the world? Who first said that? I can't remember anymore. At least she's safe for now…

---------------------------------------

I was sitting absently in my apartment, and thinking when the phone rang. Looking up and hoping Nathan wasn't around to hear it, I walked over to the phone and picked it up off the cradle.

"Hello?" I queried into the receiver. There was so much static it was hard to understand the words at first. A cell? Or maybe they were quite a way away? Depending on the state it could cause quite a lot of static.

"Mr---" I listened carefully through the sound reminiscent of the candy wrappers Nathan and I used to rub against the mouth piece when talking to Dad when we were younger.

"Mr. Petrelli?" Suddenly I could hear the persons question and I supposed it must have been a bad cell connection.

"Yes. Speaking."  
"Peter Petrelli?" they asked, it was a male voice that I vaguely recognised from somewhere, and they sounded frantic.

"Yes, At your service. Who's calling?"

"We met not long ago in Odessa, Texas. You saved my Daughter, Claire's life. This is Mr. Bennett." I was shocked to hear from the father of the cheerleader. Especially after I'd been wondering about how she was earlier on.

"Oh, Mister Bennett. Nice to hear from you. How can I help you?" I wasn't sure what the guy might want with me, but more worryingly- how had he got my number? This guy had a lot more up his sleeve than I had first given him credit for it would seem.

"It's about Claire."

"Sure, go ahead." I replied uncertainly, what could he possibly want me to tell him about Claire? I'd only met her a few times and the circumstances had been difficult.

"Have you heard from her, or seen her, Mr. Petrelli?" He asked urgently

"I'm afraid not, sir. Not since I was in Odessa. Why?" Claire's father let out a shaky breath.

"Claire's gone missing. I hoped that maybe she had gotten into contact with you-maybe wanted to talk to you about what happened. She hasn't been acting like herself since Jackie was killed." I nodded, even though he couldn't see me-he was in Texas after all. The story didn't seem likely, he was obviously trying to cover something up but I did believe that he though Claire might have wanted to talk to me. She had been so surprised when she found out I could take on powers that I suppose she would want to know more about people like her. Too bad I wasn't the best person to ask, but better than Nathan at least.

"I'm sorry, I haven't heard anything from her mister Bennett , but if I do I'll call you straight away."

"Thank-you, Mr. Petrelli." he reeled off his number to me and I noted it down, then after reassuring him, I rang off.

Maybe Claire wasn't as safe as I had thought…

**

Niki Sanders, Las Vegas, Nevada

Saturday 14th. 

It's been terrible these last few weeks. Jessica's still trying to murder DL and I'm scared she's going to hurt Micah too. He's a smart boy, he can probably tell it's Jessica, and not me. The thing is, if he tells DL, he knows that things will go wrong again. I know he doesn't want me in a padded cell again and, quiet frankly, neither do I. Except, I've been stuck in the mirror this time-she's taken over. Maybe it's because I've lost my will to fight her, but I can't give up. I will not let her ruin my life again.

----------------------------------------------------------

I woke up that morning, a flutter of eyelashes and the sun on my face. I was at home, and more importantly, I was me. I wasn't in the mirror, I was in charge now. Again.

I sat up in bed, looking around me. DL wasn't there, a quick check of the clock on the bedside table told me that he would be at work by now. I smiled. It was a shame he wasn't there now that I was back again, but maybe it was better. I had been going over and over what I would do in my head. Now that I was myself again, I couldn't waste time with excitement. It was only a matter of time before Jessica woke up on the wrong side of the mirror and realised.

As quickly and as carefully as I could I showered and dressed, making sure not to look into any of the mirrors. I still wasn't sure how this worked, but I had the suspicion that she wouldn't notice until I did look in the mirror. And if I looked in the mirror, she would know what I was up to, and I would panic.

Tip-toeing into Micah's room I found him fast asleep in his bed. Tufts of dark hair barely visible from under the covers. I walked over to him and pulled back the duvet.

"Wake up, sleepy head" I told him softly. He stirred slightly, trying to pry the duvet back over his head, but I didn't let him.

"Mommy's back, Micah." He sat p in bed suddenly and smiled at me.

"Mom!" he flung his arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. "I knew it was Jessica, but I couldn't tell Dad-"

"I know, sweetheart. I know" I cooed, stroking his hair out of his eyes.

"Where did she go?" he asked me, conspiratorially. I shrugged-there was no point in lying to him and saying I knew.

"She's still here, but I'm going to beat her, baby. I promise you I will."

He looked at me with clear adoration

"I know, Mom. I always knew that." That couldn't help but make me smile. He was the sweetest child I could have asked for. Ruffling his hair I stood up again.  
"Now, be a sweetheart for mommy and could you cover all the mirrors for me?" I asked him. He nodded simply. I think, deep down, he knew that Jessica could be seen in the mirror and that was where I had been trapped, because he didn't question my request at all. He simply nodded and set about covering any mirrors in sight.

After a few hours, we were sitting in the kitchen together talking. Micah didn't ask what had happened to me, he obviously understood that: firstly, I didn't know, and second, that I didn't want to talk about it.

"What are you going to do?" he asked me

"About what, Micah?" I knew what he was getting at, he knew my plan straight away.

"Where are you going to go, Mom?" I sighed, he did know.

"I don't know, baby. I really don't. But I can't let Jessica come back and hurt you or Daddy, can I?" he didn't like the idea of me leaving, you could see it in his face, but he also understood why.

"Jessica wants to kill Dad, doesn't she?" I nodded sadly.

"Yeah, Micah. She does."

**

Isaac Mendez, New York City, New York

Saturday 14th.

Simone. Sometimes I think she really might come back to me. Then, other times, I see the look in her eyes when she talks about Peter and I hate him. Although, he's some sort of a friend now, and I can't blame him for being in love with her-when she gets that look I do hate him. A little.

I know it's my fault for going on drugs, and I know that it's stupid to hold a grudge, but now that I'm clean I really thought she might. But no, and maybe it's better this way.

After all, she didn't really believe in me. Peter did though, he knew that my ability as a precog was real. That was what Eden called me: a precog, or precognitive. It's an odd thing to be called. I wonder what happened to Eden in the end…after she let me leave? Maybe, she got into trouble for it? I always wondered, but I think she was like me in some way. Had a power…I just couldn't figure out what.

Anyway, those two Japanese dudes keep phoning, I'm not sure what they want me to do right now, but as long as I keep drawing for them they know what to do next…it's strange though. We're obviously more connected than I first thought. Some how.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Standing in front of me was a large canvas. Not long before it had been completely blank. Now it was a rave of colour and the image that stared back at me…it was horrific. I couldn't let Simone see it, it would destroy her. We already know what's supposed to happen, but it would seem that someone plans to get there first.

The painting was larger than most, and I could tell that I had only just finished- unlike many other paintings which were a result of my ability. Scarlet paint was dripping off the ends like blood, pooling below the easel and slowly snaking across the floor to my feet. I gulped. Too much like blood for my liking.

I couldn't look anymore-the dripping cadmium red paint and the gruesome image become too much for my stomach. Simone could never see this. I ran from the studio to the bathroom.

When I returned, the painting didn't unsettle my stomach as much as before.

Peter's corpse lay at my feet. Simone sat in the corner, covered in blood-her body limp, her eyes blank and unstaring at the ceiling. The two Japanese men were impaled on spikes through the door, blood oozing from their fresh wounds, looks of astonishment and pain still visible after death.

A boy sat next to Peter, holding a stab wound to his gut. A man in police uniform lay nearby…his body in such a state of disrepair it would have been hard to identify the remains.

The painting was grotesque.

The only others unharmed aside from myself, was a girl crying next to the boy with the stab wound, a tall blonde women standing over the former cop and another man. His hair dark, face brooding, looking on at the scene with a certain admiration and pleasure. His clothes drenched in other's blood, a cruel smile playing across his lips.

"Isaac?" Simone called as she entered the studio, she walked in backwards carrying several packages in her arms and turned to me with a smile.

"Simone I-" I began, but her eyes had caught the splashes of colour and traveled up to the painting. The packages fell from her arms, and she paled in shock. One of the packages rolled onto the floor and across to me, soaking up the paint and turning the brown paper an acrid red.

"Peter-" she whispered. She stumbled down the stairs and looked at the painting, her eyes glazed over with pain. It was true, I was no longer anything to her. "When did you paint this?" she asked me suddenly. I was shocked but the severity of her tone, but I answered.  
"Just now..."

"We have to call Peter. Get him over here. We can't let him die-" she stared at the other people for the first time, I felt sure she had noticed herself already though.  
"And we have to help those other people." I nodded, it was all I could do-I couldn't say why I stood there, the only person without healing ability or a killer, unscathed. But she was correct. We had to save them.

She hadn't noticed the other painting in the corner. Or the painting inside the larger one. It wasn't long until this would be real.

**

Claire Bennett, Tucson, Arizona

Sunday 15th.

Zach got out the car when we got to Tucson. We'd traveled clear across Texas, then through New Mexico without stopping. Zach and I had left straight after school on Friday, the day before, and now we were there.

Luckily we'd smuggled our things to school on Friday in the morning, Zach had picked me up and Dad didn't find anything wrong with it. Apparently, we both don't remember so he's happy that we seem to be friends now. Of course-I always did, and Zach knows again but, what the hell, Dad doesn't know that.

We got to school early-I stashed my travel stuff in his locker along with his-being a cheerleader more people look in my locker and we weren't taking chances of people saying they'd noticed stuff in my locker the day I disappeared.

We were happy with our plan, and that night after school I went to cheerleading as normal-we made sure I turned down Zach in front of everyone by saying I had to go. That way everyone would think I wasn't with him, even if we were friends, and couldn't blame him afterwards. So, after cheerleading I walked home part way, met Zach at the water tower and we left Odessa behind.

We stopped at a diner on the outskirts of Texas that night, because no one wants to drive through the desert all night and without sleep.

Saturday morning we left, and here we are in Arizona on Sunday.

Zach walked around the car and opened my door.

"Stay in the car, okay?"

"Why?" he rolled his eyes.  
"Because you'll probably be headline news by now-stay here. I'll get us breakfast and then we'll go into the city a little more." I nodded, he was right I suppose. I waited for ten minutes; watched him go to the counter, pay and wait for the food. A pretty redheaded waitress handed him the food in a take away container, then passed him two sneaky coffees with a smile. He nodded to her gratefully then came back out to the car. He climbed up into the cab, passing me the drinks and sat down.

"Look what I blagged!" he declared.

"She gave them to you-you didn't blag, Zach." He pouted

"Yeah, but still. Free coffee. I'm in heaven!" he took his coffee back, passing me my breakfast and took a large swig. "Ah, this is the life." he declared. I nodded mutely, and began to eat waffles.

We left after Zach had finished, I could eat while moving I didn't get ill on car journeys and we didn't want to hang around much longer.

No doubt dad had sent someone to find me-maybe the [Heasian] and this time he wouldn't be able to pretend.

"Are you scared, Claire?" he asked me about half an hour later. I looked up from my still warm coffee.

"About what?" I replied.

"Meeting your Dad? What your other dad will do, and what your real dad will do? About my being arrested?" I laughed.

"No. I just want to meet him. Slightly about dad though. You won't be arrested, Zach. I'll protect you," I said, patting his leg reassuringly "I promise."

"Cool. The cheerleader everyone's saving is going to save me. That makes me feel manly." I laughed, he put things in perspective in a good way.

"Ah, but you're a special case, Zach."

"Which is?" he asked,looking away from the road and scrutinising my expression.

"You're my best friend. I can't let you get hurt." I told him, his face fell slightly, but he smiled.

"Yes, the best friend always gets saved…" then he paused "actually, no, the best friend always gets killed. Claire!" He glared at me.

"Zach, this isn't X-men. You're not going to get killed." He opened his mouth then shut it again, a little peeved.

"I never said it was X-men"

"Admit you think Rogue is hot, Zach. You so do!" he blushed

"Why would I have a crush on a comic character?" he asked me seriously, I laughed.

"because she's a super heroes and has cool powers-and she wears a skimpy outfit." He stared at me for a long moment then looked back at the road.

"Why would I need that, when I have my own super hero?"

**

Niki Sanders, Las Vegas, Nevada

Saturday 14th

I sent Micah out to do some shopping, he knew I wouldn't be there when he got back, I think, but he did as I told him. He's a good boy. So, I packed my stuff, enough to last me for several weeks, and checked the houses for signs of Jessica and myself. There weren't many left. When DL got home, it would be as if neither of us had ever existed, and he'd be able to look after Micah.

I was standing in the living room, the curtains, I noticed, had thinned considerably and I wondered how long I had been stuck inside that mirror. Quite a time, months maybe? Probably not, more like weeks.

A heard a key turn in the door and I stood rigidly, hoping that it wasn't DL home early. If it was I knew that either, Jessica would take over and hurt him, or I wouldn't have the heart to leave. This was important-I had to go.

A small, smiling face showed itself around the living room door and I let out the breath I had been holding.

"Mom, you're still here!" Micah said happily, I nodded. He embraced me and passed the plastic bag he had been holding to me. Looking down at it I raised an eyebrow.

"What's this, sweetheart?"

"What you asked for, and some extra stuff you'll need, mom." I smiled, ruffled his hair and looked into the bag. My son was a genius. His ability had given me the means to survive.

I bend down to his eye level and kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry I have to go, baby. Be good for your dad, okay?" he nodded weakly. " I'll come back if I can. I love you-remember that. I'll never stop loving you." I told him seriously, I hugged him for a long time, then, tears pricking behind my eyelids, I kissed the top of his head affectionately and left.

Where could I go?

**

Ando Masahashi , Salt Lake City, Utah

Wednesday 18th

I don't know how he talks me into these things.

Heroes…destiny…future…space/time continuum…star trek…

I hate my life.

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"Hiro!" I stared at the back of my friends head as he ran like an excited puppy ahead of me. Really, could he be the son of the man in charge of our company? It was laughable. He turned to me, jogging on the spot until I caught up. I refused to run, at least we weren't being chased by something this time.

"Ando-kun! Hurry!" he told me enthusiastically. I rolled my eyes.

"Hiro, how is this related to destiny?" I asked him, I was still obviously at a loss for the connection.

"It's very important." he told me, in his less than fluent English. I wondered why we were talking in English but, being in America it had become somewhat of a habit.

"Yes, apparently it is. But how?" I asked again.

"Waffles are delicious!"

"This is about waffles?" I asked, my voice becoming an uninterested monotone. If this was about waffles I didn't care. He nodded urgently.

"Waffles are on sale! Eto…hai?!

"No. Lie, Hiro-kun! Waffles are not important to destiny!"

"Well, superheroes need something to keep them going," he told me tartly.

Great, I thought. The guy who could stop time and possibly save the world was more interested in waffles. A hero may not need powers, but I think I'd have benefited from being able to stop time once in a while-to run away from the people Hiro usually made chase us.

Waffles?

Waffles were good though…

**

Hiro Nakamura, Albany, New York

Sunday 22nd 

This is all very complicated. Somehow, I have to give them a back-up plan. These past few days have been difficult but I know what's going to happen. I'm just worried that the other heroes will not know what to do-how to stop them.

-----------------------------------

I walked through Albany alone. I wasn't sure exactly when or where this would happen, but I needed to be as exact as possible. From what he had told me it was in the next street. There was plenty of time in case something went amiss. Hopefully, I would be able to stop all of his-before, well, before Peter.

I found the street name and followed it, it wasn't hard, it was easy to navigate-why he'd be here I don't know though. I closed my eyes and concentrated, just before I did, I saw him. He smiled at me. I vanished.

**

Sylar, Burns, Oregon

Tuesday 17th.

I hate Oregon. It's a disgusting place. There is no real motivation behind this feeling really, it is most likely a result of the individual I have just encountered.

I will never revisit this place-unless it is for something particularly enjoyable.

-------------------------------

I looked at my watch, perfect as usual and rang the bell.

The apartment building was shabby, the concrete greying with age and distastefully built, read to fall down really. The buzzer rang and I pulled the door open. I was wearing gloves anyway, so it didn't make a difference. I was quite glad of this, that door handle had god only knows what plastered all over it.

Vile.

I climbed the stairs at a leisurely pace, then when I reached the second landing, entered through another door. This one was painted a most horrible green colour, the paint itself was chipped and beneath it was an even more terrible bright yellow. No wonder they tried to paint over it. The glass was cracked and dusty, as was the floor, and I knocked on the third door down. Number fifty-five.

I heard a chain rattling on the other side of the door and key turned in the lock. From behind the door a young man looked out at me, obviously wary. I would have laughed, if only he knew that he should be very afraid. Even more afraid.

"Y-yes?" they asked, barely able to hide his pathetic terror.

"I'm Mister Sylar. We arranged to meet over the telephone," I told him with a wide smile " May I come in?" He trembled terribly, but managed to open the door fractionally enough so that I could slip inside the apartment.

He walked ahead of me, and into an eyesore of painted orange kitchen. Cracked tiles lined the walls half way up, and several were missing. He quickly moved to the sink and ran some water from the tap into a dirty glass. He drank it swiftly and then turned to me apologetically.

"W-would you like a drink?" I tried to hide my contempt, and shook my head.

"I'll have to politely decline-I just finished a drink with a friend before I came to see you." He nodded and then lead me to the sitting room.

"Erm…please take a seat," he told me, gesturing to several chairs in the room. I looked from one to the next. One was bright pink, it's stuffing spilling out of it's belly like an animals entrails, another was a wicker chair which seemed to be unraveling rather like a scarf might in a cartoon. The last two were a large green and worn sofa, the springs of which protruded though the leather, and the last being a small plastic stool which was slightly dented and painted like a zebra. I found something interesting about all of them. The first reminded me of death-which was always a good, safe thing. The second of the film the wicker man-cinematic horror at it's peak which was also always a good choice. The old sofa quite made me think of torture, although torturing myself I would be if I were to sit on it. The last simply made me entertain the thought of killing the man with it for his terrible taste. Were we still in the eighties?

I chose the pink gutted animal chair.

"Now, Mister Byrne, tell me about what you can do." I said, thinking how ironic it was he lived in somewhere called Burn…perhaps he moved there for that purpose?

"Well, you see," he began nervously, taking a seat in the wicker chair I was glad to note, so that if I did decide to use the zebra stool, I could. "Recently, when I'm in a hurry to go anywhere I just sort of…end up there…" he trailed off, I frowned.

"Teleportation?" I suggested, not exactly sure what power he might posses. For all I knew he might just have memory loss.

"No," he said determinedly, shaking his head. "Not like teleportation."

"Memory loss? " I replied, wondering if this was a waste of my time, angrily, the least someone could do if I was going to kill them was sit and give me something back!

"No!" he protested slightly angrily. I held up my hands-surrendering. Not something that happened often, but I at least wanted to know what I'd end up with after he died.

"What then?" I sighed "can you show me?" he nodded, uneasily.

He stood in the middle of the sitting room, began walking toward me, and then his form blurred. Within less time than it took me to blink-which I pride myself on being able to say was much fast than most people-he was next to me, then in the kitchen. It was amazing, not teleportation, but speed. I smiled.

"Incredible speed. How interesting…" I said, he nodded.

The Zebra stool floated into the air behind me. I grinned widely at him.

**

Claire Bennett, Twin Falls, Idaho

Sunday 15th

It wasn't until later when we reached Twin falls in Idaho that I was pleased.

"Where are we going, Claire?" Zach asked me, making me look up.

"Why not New York?" I told him with a grin.

"New York?! Claire! Do you know how far away New York Is?" I nodded

"Zach, I may be a cheerleader, but I'm not stupid. I do know how far New York is."

"Okay, Claire. We went in the opposite direction!" I shook my head.  
"No, Zach. If we go clear across Idaho, into Wyoming -"

"Let me guess: Carry on straight through Nebraska into Iowa, and then Illinois…?" I nodded happily.

"Yeah, then Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania and into New York!" He sighed, putting his head in his hands

"Do you know how long that would take?" he asked me, seriously

"Well, we've managed five states since Friday-I think we're doing pretty well" he coughed.

"Claire, we drove ALL day at 90 mph. Do you wonder why we did so well on time? I'm running out of gas!" I shook my head, taking out my credit card

"Credit"

"The police can track it." he told me, I though about this then shrugged

"We'll be long gone, Zach."

"I suppose-plus, no one would be stupid enough to do what were doing. Aside from you, that is." He got back into the car angrily, and I followed.

**

Peter Petrelli, New York City, New York

Sunday 15th.

"Claire? Where are you?" I asked when she phoned me two days later.

"Twin falls, Idaho!?" I repeated angrily. "Why are you there?" I listened to her explanation and nodded. "Fair enough. Your Dad phoned me on Friday."

I assured her that I wouldn't tell him now that I knew she was safe, and listened to what she needed. I nodded.

"Plane tickets. Sure. I'll wire them to you. New York? You're coming here?"

I suddenly understood, she suspected her father of living in New York.

"Sure thing, Claire. Take care, you've got my address. When you get to New York come straight here-who knows what might attack you if you don't." She laughed and we said good-bye.

That had been interesting…

Simone knocked on the door a few minutes later, and I vanished. She opened the door and her face fell. I felt bad for hiding, but honestly it was better that way. My meddling brother couldn't put me away for my own good, and she could get on with her life.

She sighed, turning to the door and leaving again. I really had to get my locks changed…what with Simone, Nathan, The police and Mohinder constantly frequenting my apartment I was beginning to feel like a rat and a fugitive…neither of which I actually was…


	2. Taking Time

Author's Note: The title comes from an Othello quote, but modified slightly. If this confuses you, there are reasons behind the sudden changes in plot, it's not me forgetting the story so far.

And Who Is He To Say That I Am The Villain?

Part One: Clear Across America- Taking Time

Peter Petrelli, Odessa, Texas

Friday 13th

So, this was where I had ended up? Who would have thought it, and now I couldn't go back-not ever. It was a sad truth but I took it on the chin, it didn't matter. Nathan's career would be better off without my presence, Mom would have her real favourite and Simone had Isaac. There was nothing to keep me there, and many reasons to leave. Mainly, because, fool that I am, I loved them all anyway.

I looked around myself, remembering the last time I had been in Odessa, Texas. It was odd to think that both Claire and I had almost died here. Then again, I had been a hero. Maybe not exactly the kind I had wanted to be, but I had saved her.

Funny how, after everything I knew. That I would kill everyone I loved, I came to the place where I had almost died, it had a certain importance to me, which I felt was right, as long as Claire didn't die I was happy to go out into the desert and let myself do so. Then again, I'd probably die out there before I had a chance to go all atom on everyone, if I took nothing to eat or drink.

I had promised myself to go and say goodbye to Claire when I had realised where my feet had lead me, and make sure she was okay before I went out to the desert, so I looked up the Bennets in the bible of phone-numbers that is the yellow pages and located her. I reached her house within the hour, having grabbed a taxi at the airport and with no luggage; I had nothing extra to wait for.

The Bennet house was large, as I had expected, though not intimidatingly so. I wandered up the wide drive, checking my watch to make sure she'd be home from school. It was six o'clock; she would be home by now. I rang the bell quickly and waited.

A boy of around fourteen, with sandy blonde hair and a scowl opened to door. He scowled some more.

"You're not Zach," he stated, slightly angrily.

"No." I replied, not sure who Zach was anyway.

"Are you here to see my sister?" I nodded, the boy looked even angrier, and, I wasn't sure, but quite upset too. "Well, she's not here. Goodbye." he moved to shut the door but I stopped him by putting my foot in the way.  
"My name's Peter Petrelli, if your sister's not here, either, do you know when she'll be home or, may I speak with your father?"

"I'm Lyle." he replied.  
"Nice to meet you, Lyle,"

"You better come talk to dad then." I followed him into the house and he shut the door. Leading me to a study at the back of the first level, he opened the door. "Dad, someone to see you" Noah Bennet looked up from the phone call he was engaged in, his face paled and he hung up.

"Come in, Mister Petrelli."

**

"Claire's missing?!" I exclaimed when he explained the situation, a nod was all the confirmation received.

"Yes, she never came home from school yesterday. Her friend, Zach, was supposed to be picking her up after Cheerleading, but they told him she hadn't been to practice. At first, we assumed that she had been invited out somewhere and would be back later when Zach phoned to let us know, but, then we waited and she never re-appeared. We've been hoping all day that maybe she stayed at a friend's house and is on her way back, but now I am worried."

"And she said nothing at all?" I asked.

"Nothing, as far as I can gather. I have spoken with almost every child's parents in her school, and no one knows where she is"

"You don't do things by halves do you?" I asked a little surprised. He glared at me.

"No, not when it involves the safety of my daughter - I do not do anything 'by halves'" I flinched slightly - I hadn't meant it like that, but, all I could think was that Noah Bennet had a few more secrets than anyone knew existed.

"I'm sorry-I didn't mean to be offensive..."

"No, I'm sorry - I'm just worried about Claire." he shook his head slightly, and when I looked I could see that he hadn't slept for worrying. "I had hoped that maybe she had gone to visit you after everything that happened at the dance - but it appears I was mistaken."

"She might have - but missed me. I can get my brother to check at my apartment and around the area."

"I would be very grateful, and if you could help us look around here..."

"It'd be my pleasure." I assured him with a smile.

So much for goodbye...

Nathan Petrelli, New York City, New York

Peter Petrelli's Apartment

"Peter?" I called, as I entered the apartment. There was no answer; it was always the same now, no Peter. I was starting to get worried about him, but my brother could probably look after himself...well, I hoped he could. The telephone rang, and I sighed, why did I always end up taking messages for my little brother? I picked up the phone and answered.

"Hello?"

"Nathan?" I was shocked to hear the very brother I had been cursing only moments before on the other end of the line.  
"PETER!"

"Yes..." he replied, somewhat sheepishly.

"Where the hell are you?" I asked him, angrily, "And, to those ends, why are you ringing yourself?" he chuckled down the phone, and I was sorely tempted to hang up on him, but then I'd never know where he was, and mother would be even more upset.

"I'm..." he paused, as if wondering if it was a wise idea to tell me where he was-he knew I would come and find him. "I'm in Odessa."

"Texas? Where you got arrested?"

"Where I was a hero, Nathan!" he protested.

"I don't care, Peter. Why are you there?"

"Don't come and get me, Nathan. Look, I'm here...because I didn't want to hurt the rest of you-"

"Peter you're-"

"Let me finish, Nathan!" he cut in, he'd never cut across me like that before - never.

"Find out where Claire Bennet is, Nathan," I paused, I had been about to yell at him, but I wondered.

"Okay, I'll look, Peter."

"And you won't come and get me?"

I laughed, "At least you're out of trouble while you're looking for her."

"Bye, Nathan."

"Goodbye, Peter." I rang off, this was annoying, now I had to look for some teenager. Sometimes I really disliked my brother.

Simone Deveaux, New York City, New York

Saturday 14th 

Isaac looked up at me, I shrugged as I replaced the phone on the hook.

"No sign of him." I sighed unhappily and sat down at Isaac's desk, thumbing through some of his sketches, absently.

Isaac stood uncertainly by my shoulder, turning back to him and leaving the wad of paper where it was, I took his hand. "Thank-you for helping me, Isaac."

"Simone, you know I'd always help you." I laughed slightly, it wasn't like my normal laugh, strained, humourless. I smiled weakly at him.

"I know, which is why I feel so guilty."

"Don't feel guilty," he told me sympathetically "Feel guilty after we find Peter." he smiled at his own joke, but all it did was make my thoughts return to Peter.

Isaac sighed, when yet another person knocked at the door, and he moved to answer it. Nathan Petrelli, Peter's brother, stood rigidly there and handed him an envelope. He didn't say a word to explain, but simply turned and left again.

"What was that about? Why was Peter's brother here?" Isaac shrugged and he returned to me, turning the plain white envelope over in his hands.

"That's who it was? I haven't the faintest idea…" he took the letter opener from his desk and slide the message open deftly.

"What does it say?" I asked quickly, as his eyes darted across the page. He turned the note around for me to see, all it said, in thick, black capitals was:

**'PETER'S IN ODESSA'**

"Do you think he wants us to go and get him?" Isaac asked me, I shrugged.

"Why else tell us without an explanation?"

Mohinder Suresh, New York City, New York

Sunday 15th

There wasn't much to be done except listen to Gabriel, there wasn't anything I could do. He had the ability and I did not, which meant that if I had any chance of bringing these people of extraordinary ability to my side, I would need him to convince them for me.

"Who are we going to see next?" he asked me quietly as we walked through the crowded city. Over all the noise, I was surprised I could even hear him, especially as he was barely audible. I looked down at the address in my hand.

"A Mister Carl Wearne,"

"What can he do?" he asked interestedly, I looked at Gabriel for a moment and knew deep down I probably shouldn't trust him, but anything that helped a little would be of some use to my cause. I looked back to my notebook as we stood on the edge of the pavement trying to hail one of the shining, yellow taxis I had enjoyed a brief stint of driving.

"Apparently he can teleport." I told him, Gabriel's face became brooding once more.

"How…useful…"

"Indeed, I suppose it would be."

Claire Bennet, 

Somewhere in the American Desert

Monday 16th 

I wasn't overly sure where I was exactly, or how I had gotten there, but the diner was nice enough. It was the kind of place you saw in old television shows, way out in the desert and everyone knew everyone. I smiled despite myself.

"Are you read to order?" the waitress asked me pleasantly, her red hair falling over her face as she leaned forward to get her notepad. I nodded and she smiled.

"I'll have the cherry pie, please"

"Good choice. Anything else?" I looked over the menu which consisted of an insane amount of bacon and nodded.

"Can I get a coffee too?" I asked her, folding the menu back again and placing back on the table. She nodded again, jotting down my order.

"Sure thing, I'll be right back with your order" She walked away, ripping off my order and placing it on one of the skewer on the shelf of the food hatch which lead into the kitchen.

I was thinking of home, and how I'd abandoned poor Zach. I was supposed to meet him after practice, but I hadn't. the thing was, I couldn't remember why or how I had ended up where I was, it was like the Haitian had blanked the entire journey from my memory, but that couldn't be what was happening. I sighed heavily, I was stuck somewhere, most probably in the middle of the desert, and I wondered how my real father would react to me when I finally met him.

The waitress returned with my order after a few more minutes. She pushed the plate onto the table and filled my coffee cup carefully for me.

"Do you want any cream or ice cream on that pie?" she asked me politely.

"Ice cream, Please" she nodded and returned with a small ice cream tub after a few seconds.

She scooped some of it onto the plate then left after telling my to enjoy my pie.

I ate sparingly, but it sure was nice pie.

I looked around myself silently as I ate, watching the other people in the diner with a detached interest. The eyes of a dark individual sitting at the counter caught my own, and I looked away. His gaze was trained a little too knowingly on me, but that was impossible - if I didn't know where I was, how could anyone else? I didn't look up again, but I did hear him call to the waitress that had served me and ask for more coffee. I ignored it, I was just nervous he was just some random guy-he couldn't know anything about me. I really missed Zach just then.

Micah Sanders, Las Vegas, Nevada

Monday 16th 

"Micah?" The front door opened and Dad walked in, carrying a bundle in his arms.

"I'm here, Dad" he strolled into the sitting room and dumped the bundle on the coach opposite to me. He looked around us then turned back to me.

"Where's your Mom, Micah?" concern furrowed his brow as he checked the house for any signs of Mom, and I was tempted to sneak away before he realised she was gone. He returned before I could, however. "Micah, where's Niki?" he asked me desperately. I looked up at him sadly.

"She's gone, Dad." He sat down heavily on the coach next to me, and sighed.

"Gone? Gone where?" I shrugged

"I don't know." I was being honest enough, I would never lie to Dad…at least, as long as the truth didn't put either of them in danger - be it from each other, or someone else.

"Why? Why would she leave me? Or you - she would never leave you!" I sighed, watching my father break down was not something a kid wanted to see on their weekend, so I turned to him seriously and patted his arm.

"Jessica was back." his head snapped up and his eyes met mine.

"Jessica?" I nodded, solemnly.

"What do you mean, Micah?" he queried dazedly, obviously Mom leaving was affecting him more than he cared to admit even to himself.

"Jessica was taking over, had been in control for weeks. Mom was herself again, and she didn't want Jessica to hurt us - so she left." Dad nodded sadly then stood up.

"Micah, get your stuff." I stared blankly at him.

"What?"

"Get your stuff, Micah. We're going to get your Mom back"

"but she doesn't want us to - I miss her to but-"

"Just get your stuff, Micah! I'm not going to let Niki get herself hurt - she belongs with us. Jessica's part of your Mom, and I know Niki doesn't want to leave us." I was slightly worried about my father's sanity, but I did as I was told just the same, if it meant Mom not leaving us - I was game.

Ando Masahashi, New York City, New York.

Isaac Mendez's apartment

Thursday 19th 

Hiro and I reached Isaac apartment early that day, and I followed my friend in through the door.

"Mister I-sak?" Hiro called, quiet embarrassingly if I must admit. I looked around, it looked pretty empty - but it usually did.

"If something jumps out at us - I'm going home." I told him as we wandered around the studio looked for signs of life…or death.

"Mister I-sak should be here," Hiro told me, with his usual determination. I nodded wearily.

"Destiny - I know" He shook his head

"No, it's Wednesday." I raised an eyebrow

"How does that make it a certainty that he'll be here? Or does destiny not work on Wednesdays?" I asked him, Hiro did say some odd things sometimes.

"Mister I-sak was killed on this Wednesday." I groaned

"So, were going to find him with his head cut open?" That wasn't something you wanted to see after just eating, my stomach lurched in agreement and I hoped we didn't encounter Hiro's future Isaac.

"There is no one here…" he told me after we had fully inspected the studio, and much to my stomach's pleasure found nothing resembling a dead body.

"Can we leave then?" I asked hopefully, he shook his head.

"Why not?" Hiro smiled at me and waved a comic in my face. _9__th__ Wonder._

"Where did you…"

"It was over there!" he told me, pointing to the side table.

"What happens next?" I had given up on trying to dissuade him from these strange and perilous antics.

"We," he began, flicking through the pages and arriving at our current position, he turned the comic for me to see.

"Niki?"

D.L Hawkins and Micah Sanders, New York City, New York

Monday 23rd 

"Who the hell are you?" I yelled at the man standing in front of me. He shrugged, a sly smile spreading across his face.

"Something only God can tell you." I glared at him

"What the?"

"Ask him for me when you see him," I looked at him blankly, pushing Micah behind me and motioning for him to run turning away - just for a split second. Then I turned back to the man questioningly, what had he meant? "Let me know when we next meet." he told me, I looked down at my stomach, at the scarlet blood seeping through my shirt and the knife jutting out of my gut. My hands moved to the wound and he dragged the knife out, slick with dark blood. He examined the blade carefully, turning it over in his hands and wiping off my blood on his shirt. I collapsed to my knees, coughing. He watched me, grinning, evidently pleased with himself.

"See you in hell!" I choked back, my vision blurred and still gripping my side I fell completely to the floor. I heard Micah's running feet, the man didn't move, he obviously wasn't interested in my son's ability, that, or he didn't know about it. The question was, did he know about mine?

"I don't plan on dying," he chuckled "But you are..." A whooshing noise replaced anything else in my hearing, and it meant nothing.

Matt Parkman, Odessa, Texas

The Bennet Home

Saturday 14th 

"Officer Parkman, nice to see you again," he greeted me warmly and with a handshake, but I doubted Bennet was overly pleased to see me.

"Likewise, Mister Bennet."

"Please, come in." he gestured into the house, standing back to allow me entry to the large home, and I nodded.

"Thank-you."

He lead me through the house into the dining room. It was a large, square room with black half paneled walls and a dark wooden floor. Several rugs were neatly positioned through the space and a large rounded table sat in the centre. Several paintings of dogs lined the walls higher up, and a delicate looking chandelier hung from the room's ceiling. I sighed, Yvonne and I could only dream of such a décor arrangement.

Sitting at the table, was the rest of the family. Mrs. Bennet, looking worn out and worried; their son, whom I had not met, looking angry and a small dog sitting at his feet. On the other side of the table, sat Peter Petrelli. I stared at him in disbelief - what was he doing there?

"This is Officer Parkman, he's here to help us find Claire." Bennet introduced me with a degree of annoyance, and the family nodded to me.

"Hello Officer Parkman - nice to see you again" Peter called to me, cheerily.

"Please, take a seat." Bennet told me politely, I did as I was told, and we began to discuss Claire's disappearance.

"I would like to request that Peter assists you, Officer Parkman." Bennet told me after we had gone over all of the facts - I glared at him.

"I'm sorry, sir - this is an LAPD matter. I'm afraid I cannot allow a civilian to participate in this investigation, unless it is for questioning."

"Hey, I'm here to help - I can be subtle" I glared at Peter as he said this - subtlety wasn't the issue here.

"You can't help - I could be struck off for letting you."

"My brother can make sure that doesn't happen, Officer Parkman - But, I need to help find Claire." I sighed

"Does the word 'protocol' mean nothing to any of you?"

"Not particularly, but I hear it means even less to you," Bennet replied, I gritted my teeth

"Fine, but do as I say." Peter grinned, ecstatically.

"I never said otherwise." he promised me. I sighed, I was going to lose my badge - again.

Hiro Nakamura, Albany New York

Sunday 22nd 

I was walking through Albany, wondering when he would arrive when I spotted a waffle stand…_would it be wrong to get waffles when my best friend's life was is stake?_ No, a hero would not abandon his friend - even if it meant waffles. I sighed, leaving the waffles behind.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for really, but I hoped that, as he had said, he would be easily noticeable.

"Tell me," a deep voice began behind me, I turned quickly to them, facing a man with dark brooding eyes, and a terrifying smile. Predatory. "Can you do your trick before I do mine?" I blinked, hadn't I heard that exact line before?

"A Hero doesn't use tricks - he uses courage!"

He laughed "How noble," I nodded, he clapped his hands in amusement, "Very gallant - thing is, the good guy never wins."

"Yes, the hero always wins!"

"Maybe in anime, but this is the real world - and the villain's never been me before. You'll see what a real bad guy is." he chuckled, taking a step towards me. I suddenly had the urge to run away. It was a very strong instinct.

"You won't win," I informed him, even though my knees were shaking.

" Sorry, you've pulled the Joker - I win" he hissed…

Isaac Mendez, Las Vegas, Nevada

Thursday 19th 

"Simone, why are we in Las Vegas?" I asked, turning to her in confusion. I had been wondering it for quite some time, but only now did I ask.

"Linderman." was her only reply, she walked through the double doors of the Casino and I followed in a panicked silence.

"The man who buys my paintings?" she nodded, pushing my hands from her arm impatiently.

"Yes, Isaac!"

"Why?" I grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face me, looking her straight in the eye. "Linderman's dangerous, Simone." She smirked at me, pityingly.

"I know that, Isaac."

"Then why willingly walk into a den of lions?"

She chuckled, "It could be worse, now calm down before you ruin everything."

"What do you mean?" I asked her, letting go of her shoulders and walking beside her with a synthetically calm demeanor.

"If we're going to find Peter, we'll need Linderman's help." I sighed - how had it ended up like this? I was the drug addict, wasn't I supposed to be the one who got us into dangerous situations?

Sylar, Las Vegas, Nevada

Thursday 12th 

I smiled to myself, something I was pleased to note was happening more and more often these days. Everything was going well, falling into place, following my carefully worked plan. Luckily for me these, 'people with extraordinary ability' were rather good at doing exactly as I predicted they would. Sheep.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and looking out of the window. The desert looked amazing from where I was. I had always loved places such as this, the desert, the arctic, the rainforest. Extremes of conditions and temperature. Prefect. Nothing could be balanced, not really. It was the places such as this that made people fearful, the places such as this that I wanted to emulate as a person. I would be the extreme, the next amazing rung on the ladder of evolution. I would be the one to lead the world into something more amazing than they could have dreamed, and I would take that ability and power from those who did not deserve it - it was my destiny. I could feel it.

The strings of ability, family and ideals becoming blurred between them. They were mine, they had always been mine - and now they were returning to their salvation - and damnation. I laughed.

The door to the office opened, and I heard the footsteps move towards me.

"Mister Linderman?" I turned, my features that of another.

"Yes, Charles?"

Mohinder Suresh

Doctor Suresh's apartment

Tuesday 17th 

I looked down at the list of names, address' and abilities slowly. I was making my way down the list and finding the people were either dead or not interested. I sighed heavily, this was harder than I had anticipated.

I picked up the phone again taking the next name and calling the telephone number listed.

"Hilldale Public school, how may I help?"

"I would like to inquire into the current address of the pupil under the name of Micah Sanders, please."

"I'm sorry, we can only give out personal information to members of family or the police." I thought quickly, I was a doctor…

"I'm his doctor, I…" I wondered if I should lie, but this was a child we were talking about, and I could not let Sylar kill a child if I could prevent it. "Have his test results."

"Oh, Doctor Roberson?" she asked as I heard the rustling of paper.

"Yes, could you tell me where I can get into contact with his parents, they seem to be having problems with their telephone line." I lied

"Of course - though Micah is no longer a pupil at Hilldale. May I take your number?"

"You may…" I reeled off the number and then replaced the telephone.

Next on my list was Mathew Parkman again, on the off chance that he would pick up rather than his wife. I hoped so.

Yvonne Parkman, Los Angeles 

Parkman Household 

Wednesday 18th 

"Damn phone," I grumbled walking towards the confounded thing and answering it.

"Hello, may I speak with Mister Mathew Parkman, please?" I sighed, I recognised the voice from somewhere

"He's in Odessa at the moment." I replied

"Do you know when he may be back?"

"Afraid I don't - he's on a missing persons case"

"Well, Mrs Parkman, am I correct in assuming it is Mrs. Parkman whom I am addressing?"

"You assumed correctly," I told him

"Well, perhaps you could tell me if your husband has experienced anything out of the ordinary recently?"

"Such as?" I questioned, panicking slightly, no one could know about Matt's power - it was impossible.

"I believe he may posses the power of telepathy, would you know anything about this?" I sighed.

"Who is this?"

"I'm Doctor Suresh, we spoke on the telephone before."

"How did you know this?" I asked him, obviously he knew, and wouldn't give up

"His genetic code fits a pattern I have found, and this part of the genetic coding gives people extraordinary abilities, such as your husband's." I nodded slowly to myself

"You're a scientist?" I asked.

"A geneticist – yes." he replied politely.

"Can you help him?"

He sighed slightly, "I'm not sure whether that is possible, but I would need to observe him first."

"He gets headaches because of it…"

"I'm sure, it must be a terrible burden for him."

"Both of us - please help him."

"I shall do my best," he promised me

"I'll get him to phone you." I told him a little guiltily - Matt didn't want anyone else to know, but I hoped he would thank me if perhaps we could find a way to help him feel better, or control his power. Even better, to get rid of it.

"Thank-you, Mrs. Parkman." He rang off, and I wandered around the house waiting for Matt to call from Odessa, Texas.


End file.
